As Far as the Soul Goes
by Shadowed Mediocrity
Summary: If half a soul dies, there are chances that, with a will of steel, it will be brought back to its other half, irreversibly bound. And what if Hao were revived in this fashion..? [pairings undecided] [criticism welcomed]
1. Fragmented Lights

As Far as the Soul Goes

**Author's Note**: My first Shaman King fanfiction; I'll warn you immediately that I'm not terribly experienced with these. However, I felt the need to write one after spending three hours online and finding only mildly Badfic and many Worsefic for my pains.. and humor that really wasn't all that funny. Thereby, I wanted to create a fanfic that didn't /focus/ on implausible/plausible romance pairings, but rather, on the action and humor that endeared Shaman King to me in the first place.

If there's even the slightest detail that you find critquable, please pass the information on in the form of a brief, to-the-point review; that's rather the point of my posting anything online, isn't it..?

Enjoy the fic, insomuch as you can, considering it's only a prologue so far..

**Disclaimer:** I own neither Shaman King or Asakura Hao. However, if someone uncovers a way to bring him to the real world, he's mine.

* * *

_Prologue:_

Pinpoints of light danced above his eyes, lilting and swaying away from his grasp whenever he sought to bat them away. At last, muzzily, he sat up, gazing blearily at the dots of luminescence that twirled in a heaven too austere for his taste, too faded for his interest.

As his head rose, the dissolute blurs of light faded into tiny specks, and he was able to place them at last.

_The stars_.

But there was something coldly unfamiliar about their light, the malice with which they danced; a light glimmer within their touch, as though they knew something he did not.

He..

Who was he?

The answer came almost instantaneously, born of long habit and an obstinate determination to forge on upon his path.

_I am Asakura Hao._

_I am.._

_I am.._

The words did not so much as stutter awkwardly to a stop as they did fade gradually, like childhood memories slipping from an adult mind. They moved swiftly from his reach, as sleekly untouchable as a stream, and he could not grasp them, try though he might. Only fragments of thought remained to him, and they spiraled through his mind in a torrent of confusion that almost bent his spine and forced him back down.

_Shaman King._

_My descendent, my twin, he who should have been my strength._

_Conquered._

_Spirit of the Flames, of the Fire._

_Conquered, is that what I am?_

_Who conquered me?_

_The Shaman King._

_But I am the Shaman King, not he!_

With a swift efficiency that was belied by the slight, shaken steps he took, he rose silently to his feet. He did not glance about himself; he was much like his twin in such affairs, in that he was less than willing to sacrifice energy for the sake of useless fripperies and trivial actions. And it did not require a genius to recognize the mist that enshrouded him on all sides.

Rapidly, with a bland quiet he traced his way through the mist, moving aimlessly, rudderlessly. And for the first time, Asakura Hao came to the realization that he was wholly without a purpose, in a way that he had not been since he had first determined his desire to be the world's Shaman King.

But he was not entirely aimless; the stars overhead, the first signs to greet his wakening unto consciousness, remained still, an encouraging sign, even for one who had played his life by rules and definitives, rather than luck and signs. A brief smile flashed across his features, alluding to a joke that only he had caught, as he accorded them a nod, before striding onwards.

A golden thread traced its line across the skies, and had he been more appreciative, the shaman might have paused to admire its brief, fleeting beauty.

But he did not, and so it was only when it melted into the ground at his feet that Hao came to the realization that it was not a thread at all, but a golden road. And with a precise instinct, he thought he could pinpoint to where the road would lead him.

He was but half a soul, after all, and halves could not die when their other halves remained alive.

to be continued?

* * *

**Author's Note: **Opinions, anyone, on what I should do with this? Continue it? Throw it away as a bad concept (it was written at two in the morning, after all)? Feel free to throw things at me. :) 


	2. A Painful Reunion

As Far as the Soul Goes

**Author's Note**: Thank you, everyone, for the four reviews! :) In such a large section, I had hardly expected two. But I felt the need to update, despite a pressing workload.

Because I'm being rather scornful of certain romance pairings in my profile and the previous chapter, I think that I should probably clear up right now that I'm wholly certain that romance will not appear; it may or may not, depending on the feedback. All I know about the fanfic at the moment is that it's probably going to be Hao-centric, and there may be pairings. And there's going to be at least –one- one-sided pairing involving Hao. Whether this is from him, or to him, I won't be telling until said chapter. ;)

Oh.. –vaguely guilty look- There will be spoilers ahead, just a warning. Just three main ones (this takes place after the anime concludes), which are: Hao is defeated. No Shaman King is determined. No one knows what happened to Hao. There will be no details, so if you don't want the specific spoiled, there you are.

So thank you again for the reviews, everyone, and enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Shaman King. Regrettably. Asakura Hao is debatable.

* * *

_Chapter One: A Painful Return_

"So why did Anna want double the amount of groceries this time?"

It was a casual question, and Manta asked it both because it was unusual cruelty (even) for the blonde to require it.. and because he took great pleasure in the generally wryly given replies that his companion made. A year since the Shaman tournament had not changed Yoh; though a deepening understanding of adolescence had touched those childlike eyes, they still remained pristine, unsullied.. and thoroughly weary thanks to Anna's unrelenting schedule of training. Despite the Patch Tribe's suspension of the Shaman Fight until further notice, the _itaku_ seemed still convinced that they were simply waiting for the shaman to resume their lax lifestyles before reannouncing the recommencement of the Shaman Fight.

Or so she told Yoh, in any case, and her fiancée was generally too weary from the harsh regime she imposed to contradict her.

"Ryu reminded her that the Patch tribe hadn't made me Shaman King.." Yoh admitted shamefacedly, with a wry smile as his head dropped beneath his load. It was at that select moment that Manta noticed that his companion was towing a pile that seemed at least twice his own height.

"Uh.. Yoh?"

"Hai?"

"You might want to consider keeping out of her way in the future if it gets you out of stuff like this." _That much of a strain on your back is probably going to bend you over for the rest of your life_, he added mentally, though he was careful not to voice it aloud. Anna had a tendency to appear at the most inopportune of moments, and even now, in the midst of the open road, Manta didn't trust that tendency not to manifest itself.

There was a thoughtful pause before a response was emitted. "And since when has _that_ ever worked?"

Considering their past experiences with Yoh's ferocious fiancé, the shorter lad smiled weakly in reminiscence. "Uh.. never?" He inquired, sheepishly.

"My point exactly."

* * *

_PAIN!_

_It screamed through every nerve of his body, burning through the fibers as though they were mere paper beneath the pressure of the hottest flame. It seared into his muscles, clenching, as he writhed and fought to endure it. It was both darkness and a light too bright to bear, an entity that surrounded him and consumed him._

_He had anticipated this, though not so vividly, had anticipated the eviscerating pain that seemed as though it would have no ending. But even that had not prepared him for the actual _experience

_And then it was over._

* * *

For the rest of his life, Manta could never comprehend what happened next, try though he might. It was not that his was a lesser intelligence; hardly. He had won awards in his school for his marks. He was regularly bullied by the popular and made to do their homework, a definite sign of genius. (Or at least, he had been until Yoh had arrived.)

But the agonizing scream that leapt from Yoh's lips like a writhing, living creature and beat clumsily into the night was entirely unlike his friend.. and so was the fact that the dark-haired boy promptly dropped his groceries and crumpled to the ground, thrashing and squirming desperately beneath an assailant that he could hardly identify.

"YOH!"

Alarm sped the tinier lad's legs as he rushed to his friend's side, ignoring the spill of groceries that glistened upon the roadside.  
"Yoh!" The boy said urgently, shaking his friend's shoulder with a bewildered strength. "Yoh, you have to snap out of it! What's happening!"

Despite the onslaught of pain, the shaman managed a tiny sliver of a smile for his ever-present companion. "Don't.. worry.." He managed to croak between spasms. "It's not.. any worse.. than what Anna makes me go through.. for the exercises.."

Manta smiled tremulously, a tiny fragile butterfly of a smile that leapt away from his lips and was quickly lost in the night. "Please be okay, Yoh.." He whispered, though a dread had already begun to settle in the base of his spine as the shaman's screams refused to cease.

* * *

_An explosion outwards into the shadows of the night. A breath stolen beneath cover of darkness, like a guilty, furtive secret hidden in the treasure chest of some tiny child's heart. Dark eyes snapped open, their contents stagnant, swirling with an anger, a passion that had died centuries before, and left only its twitching corpse behind before that, too, settled into rigor mortis._

_But now it was alive again, and with it, so was he._

_It seemed that it was night here as well, though he hardly minded its dark. For within its cavernous depths, tiny stars glittered like pinpoint jewels in firelight._

_The stars.._

* * *

Just as abruptly as it had come, it was over. With careful caution, and a weakness derived from uncertainty, the shaman sat up, entirely bewildered by the apparent resilience of his body.

"Are you okay?" Manta demanded, and instantly felt foolish for the question, for Yoh's trademark smile had already begun to steal across his features.

Raising his head, the dark-haired boy smiled brilliantly at his companion, with a lighthearted ease that made all worries tease away, as though they were wholly unimportant. "Hai." He said agreeably. "But I think we should get home soon.. there's something important waiting for us there."

Glancing behind Yoh, the shorter boy froze. "Yes.." He said slowly, and with a terror that made his friend start. "There's _definitely_ going to be something important waiting for us at home.."

Catching the slant of the boy's glance, Yoh, too, glanced behind himself. In a fashion not unsimilar to Manta's own, he, too, froze.

"Ai-_ya_! All the groceries have been spilled! Anna's going to _kill_ you!"

Shaking his head, Yoh flashed a smile at his companion as he began to run with a renewed freedom and speed. "Whatever's waiting at home's going to be more important than spilled groceries." He assured his companion, whose legs were a blur as he struggled to keep up with his friend. "Anna will forgive us."

"You _hope_." Manta grumbled, but under his breath.

* * *

They arrived at the front door as moonlight had just begun to filter into the courtyard, spilling excessively to illuminate the porch.. and the quiet figure that leaned against one of the wooden pillars upon it. The doors opened all too easily, as though they had expected Yoh to push against them with the brutal force of the panicked, with Manta only stumbling clumsily behind, wearied by the swift, unrelenting pace that Yoh had set.

Anger glinted in the normally easygoing shaman's eyes as his body tensed into an automatic fighting stance. A name hissed out from between his teeth, as though he were unwilling to grant the other boy even that title.

The figure whose features mirrored Yoh's own to a perfect consistency raised his head, pushing gently away from the pillar against which he seemed to have fallen into a vague slumber Slowly, with an exaggerated languidity, his lips tilted into a smile.

"Long time no see.. _ototo_."

* * *

**Author's Note: **I do need some criticism to work off of.. any specific pairings that you think that I should try to do for this fanfic? Other advice? Again, thanks for the reviews from the previous chapter.. 


End file.
